One of a Kind
by Sousaphone
Summary: Phryne's called to help a young woman and gets shot at in the process, not something she appreciates. Jack agrees with this sentiment, preferring Phryne safe and at home. Alas, Jack's wish will never be granted and Phryne goes in search of the gunman. Smut included!
1. Chapter 1

ONE OF A KIND

My first multi-chapter Phryne x Jack story! I hope it isn't horrible and that you like it.

Enjoy!

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

Phryne hiked up the stairs of the ancient apartment building thankful that her gloves kept her bare skin from touching the disgustingly sticky railing. There was an elevator, though it was as ancient as the building and Phryne was not inclined to believe it would be able to deliver her to the third floor unharmed.

She was responding to a call that had came in around ten from a frantic Miss Delilah Brown, a young woman that Phryne had yet to have the pleasure of meeting. She used the word pleasure cautiously, having met Delilah's horrid mother on a previous occasion. Mr Butler had relayed that the woman had sounded distraught and begged for her presence as quickly as was possible. This could mean all too many things as, Phryne regretted to think, female hysteria could be brought about by even the smallest of issues. Nonetheless, here Phryne was, after a wild dash in her Hispano-Suiza, climbing up a staircase that threatened to snap under even her non-considerable weight.

Phryne heard the gunshot just as she reached the apartment she was aiming for. Hurriedly, she tried the door and found it looked. She pulled out her pistol - a necessary accessory in any woman's purse - and shot the lock, then pushed her way into the apartment with a shove of her shoulder.

She entered with her pistol raised and was promptly shot at. The felt the whoosh of the bullet as it narrowly missed her mass. She shot at the male figure that had fired at her. He was dressed in, what Phryne imagined, was a very expensive grey suit. Before she could fire again he was out the window.

Phryne let out a breath and examined herself, a bullet hole was clearly visible in her trench coat. Drat, she thought, this was one of her favorite coats.

When she raised her eyes she saw the young woman laying on the floor surrounded in a pool of blood, her eyes wide open and fixed upon Phryne. Phryne rushed to her side and began putting pressure on the wound. A bullet had hit the girl, who she presumed to be Miss Delilah Brown, squarely in the stomach.

Another tenant of the building arrived at the door and Phryne barked orders at him to call for an ambulance and the police, in particular Detective-Inspector Robinson. The tenant did exactly as the fashionably dressed, blood covered, woman told him to do.

"Who was that?" Phryne asked the girl beneath her. The blood had begun to seep through her trousers and was making her legs uncomfortably warm. She hoped to God that the girl wouldn't die, but if she did, Phryne wished to have the necessary information to avenge her. She did _not_ appreciate being shot at.

The girl just shook her head.

What seemed like hours later, the cavalry arrived. Jack and Hugh came through the door first and Jack stopped dead when he saw Phryne on the floor, covered in blood. It seemed like time froze. Around him, a doctor entered and took over from Phryne.

"He went out the window," Phryne said, standing and brushing her clothing to no avail. "I'd put him in his thirties. About five foot seven? Not too tall. He was wearing a grey suit."

"What happened?" Jack asked.

Phryne, first the first time since he had arrived, looked up to see Jack. She brushed her hair back from her face with her blood covering fingers, smearing it over her forehead. "Oh Jack dear," she managed, "I hadn't seen you there. I might need to sit down."

Jack helped her to a seat.

"Tell me what happened Miss Fisher," he said calmly.

She related exactly what had happened, leaving out that she had fired her own gun twice herself. Hugh was sent out to try and find a man in a grey suit, though Phryne thought it would be unlikely. She didn't notice Jack's hands balling into fists as she spoke, or his jaw clamping together. When she had finished telling him the story, he let her go.

.

Hugh had, as Phryne had expected, found nothing on his search of the streets. Jack and Hugh had returned to the office after doing a door-to-door and giving the apartment a thorough search. The rest of the door had going painstakingly slow and the slow movement was a perfect habitat for Jack's frustration to fester.

By the time he left the office he was full-blown angry, although somewhat unreasonably. He got in his car and pointed it towards Phryne's St. Kilda address.

. . .

There you go, the first chapter of my first long Phryne and Jack story. I hope you enjoyed it and continue to enjoy it. Tell me if you did or didn't.

Reviews are the best views! ;)

xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

ONE OF A KIND

Here's the second chapter of my first multi-chapter Phryne x Jack fic

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

Also, the first part of this chapter is one of my stories 'Raised Voices' which is already up on  
fanfic, I said I was thinking of including it in a longer story and here is that longer story.

. . .

Mr Butler awoke to yelling and was quickly out of bed. He found the origin of the noise in the parlor.

"Don't you raise your voice at me!" Phryne snapped. Her usually quirky demeanor had gone and in its place was cold, hard steel. Anger radiated through her to such an extent that she felt herself shake. She longed, oh so dearly, to pick up the vase standing on the table beside her and fling it against the wall. As a child she had learnt that such displays of frustration made one feel a lot better. But she had also learnt that cold, quiet anger achieved a lot more.

When Jack went to speak, something in Phryne's Jade eyes stopped him. There was all the fire that was being hidden in her cool manner.

Not knowing what to do, Jack tried to reach out, nearly managing to wrap his hand around Phryne's arm and bring him to her. She shuddered and backed away. The heat in her eyes was replaced my something he never expected to see in Phryne's eyes. Fear. Jack was lost.

"Phryne," he said softly. His anger had long dissipated and now all he was left with was the worry that had brought him to Phryne's St. Kilda house in the first place. He had, in the heat of the moment, completely forgotten about Phryne's past history with violent men and he scolded himself for it. Violent anger was not the way to deal with such a woman.

Phryne didn't know what to do either. She wanted very desperately to yell at Jack to get out, that was what she would've done if anybody else had spoken to her in that tone, but she didn't seem able.

Jack watched as Phryne slowly recovered herself. Her back straightened, her chin went up and her eyes cooled over. "I'd like you to leave Jack," she said in a manner seemingly devoid of feeling.

Anger pulsed through him and he forgot the revelation he'd made just moments before. Picking up a glass vase – the same vase Phryne had been considering that was probably worth more than his salary – and flung it across the room. It smashed against the far wall. This time Phryne didn't shudder but held her ground.

"Are you planning on paying for that Jack?" Her voice sounded chirpy but it was still cool, not her usual self at all. Her cool anger was sitting just below the surface.

Jack wanted to wring her neck. He settled for grabbing her face. He stared hopelessly into her eyes, waiting to see some change, something, anything.

Usually in this situation, not that she had been in such a situation in a while, Phryne would have kneed the man holding her in his delicate parts then called for Mr Butler to throw him out. There was no doubt the whole household was awake and standing in the next room half eavesdropping, half waiting for a call to intervene. However, Phryne did not feel at all inclined to injury Jack's manliness. What she wanted to do was sob. The realization annoyed her. She was not some hysterical woman who cried on the drop of a hand, and certainly not because some man had yelled at her. She put the feeling down to being shot at and then having to hold a bullet sized hole in a woman she'd only just met closed until help came.

Jack just stood still as this eternal debate happened, seeing it through Phryne's eyes. He had to fight to stay focused and not loose himself in the pools of jade. He was just about to loose the fight when he saw the tear start to form. She didn't break the eyes contact though, no, Phryne was not the type of woman to ever back down.

Again, Jack's anger seemed to disappear and he pulled Phryne into an embrace, holding her head hard against his chest. His lips pressed gently against her cap of short black hair. After a few moments he felt her let go, her hard frame soften and heard the soft, feminine sobs. His heart broke. He very much hated to know that he had brought her to such a state and didn't think he'd ever he able to forgive himself. So he held her and – based on what had been required when his wife had made a scene, a considerably more frequent occurrence than one's made by Phryne – made soft noises to calm her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and kissed her hair ever so gently. Phryne just held onto him and let her sadness come out in waves. She hadn't known she'd been holding up so much emotion inside her and thought it best to let it all out in the one go.

When Jack started to gently pat her head, Phryne had to hold back the desire to laugh. It appeared, she thought, pressing her lips together, that the moment had passed. She took a deep breath then removed herself from the detective's embrace, though not without a slight pang of regret in her chest.

She nearly told him that it was okay, but it wasn't, so she didn't. She did not at all like men who raised their voices at her, especially not in her own house. But she supposed she could forgive Jack. It wasn't okay, but she could forgive him.

"I'm…" Jack started.

Phryne tilted her head and he stopped. "Forget it Jack. All is forgiven. Mr Butler?"

Mr Butler, in a dressing gown far too big for his slim frame, materialized in the doorway. He took a moment to give the detective-inspector a chastising look before turning a smile on Phryne. "Yes Miss?"

"Tea for two please," she smiled, as if nothing had happened. "Then you can all go back to bed. I am sorry for the racket."

"Nonsense Miss Fisher," he smiled, "here to serve."

As he was leaving, Phryne took a seat on the room's love seat and patted the seat next to her. Jack took the invitation, though he would have much preferred the seat across the room. He didn't think, after his outburst, that he was in a position to argue.

Nothing was said as the two waited for Mr Butler to bring in the tea, accompanied by a decanter of whiskey which Jack was thankful for. Phryne poured the drinks, half tea, half whiskey, and they sipped in silence until she heard the door to Mr Butler's room shut.

She tucked her hand in Jack's and was impressed that he did not pull away. "Now Jack dear, do you think you can managed to tell me what you came her to tell me without biting my head off?"

"I can only try," Jack informed her, wishing for more whiskey in his tea.

"Good," Phryne smiled. "Try away."

Jack turned and took up Phryne's other hand, seeing the surprise – though quickly hidden – in her eyes. He took a deep breath. His eyes look into her soul in a manner Phryne found completely disconcerting. "You need to be more careful Phryne."

She smiled mischievously but Jack's look had it turning into more of a pout. "Really Jack d–"

"Phryne," he scolded.

Phryne relented. "I will not make a promise I cannot keep," she said seriously. It was a motto she lived by in every aspect of her life. She was, despite the whispers of many, a woman of honor and she would not break a promise unless she had absolutely no choice. And even then, she thought, she was likely still to keep her word, even if doing so had dire consequences.

"And why can't you keep it?" he asked, his voice rising slightly. Phryne looked at him and he let out a sigh. "Sorry," he muttered. He found it incredibly difficult to keep his cool in the presence of the Hon. Miss Phryne Fisher and was sure she understood.

"A compromise, perhaps?" she suggested

"What do you have in mind?"

"I will continue to act as I wish, even if that means I get myself into dangerous situations," she stated, adding a "but…" when Jack started to look pained again. "…I will try to be safer in my escapades."

Jack sighed knowing that really, that meant nothing, she was always as safe as she could be when pointing a gun at a madman with a bigger gun. However, he also understood that for her, such a promise was a big step. "It would be much too much to ask that you take up crochet and spend your days at home looking after the house?"

Phryne laughed, squeezing the hands she held. Jack felt a pang in his stomach. "You know me better than that Jack."

"Sadly," he sighed.

"Well," she said, leaning forward to give his cheek a brush with her lips. "I appreciate your concern."

She stayed close to him just a little too long, leaving Jack a little too intoxicated by her perfume. The heat that rushed through him this time was not of anger but of pure lust. He could practically see her pulse beating in her neck and longed to kiss it, to feel it throb beneath his mouth…

"I should be going," he managed.

"Yes, I suppose you should," Phryne replied, leaning back only enough to be able to look Jack directly in the eyes, still entirely too close for Jack's comfort. His gaze dropped to her lips momentarily.

"Good night, Miss Fisher."

Neither of them moved.

"Good night," she purred.

Everything within Jack wanted to grab her and bring her close to him, to run his fingers up her back, to form fists in her hair. He could just imagine her slinking over him, running her delicate fingers down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt. Yet he stood and let himself out the door, leaving Phryne alone on the couch feeling a little too unsteady and all too frustrated.

.

Phryne, never the domestic goddess the world had wanted to be, found some peace in cleaning up after her and the Inspector. When the tea cups were properly washed, glass vase swept up off the ground, and the things put away, she made her way up to her room, knowing full well that sleep was likely to evade her.

How, she wondered, was she going to deal with the Inspector? Their flirting had been perfectly fine when he had been married and there had been no chance – well, little chance – of it ever actually leading to anything. The problem now, of course, was that he was no longer married and there was no longer anything to stand in the way. Phryne took off her clothes with care, first her jacket, then her blouse, then her skirt, and chucked them over a chair for Dot to deal with in the morrow. It wasn't that simple, she mused.

She sat on the side of the bed and slowly rolled her silk stockings from her legs, wishing fleetingly that Jack were the one performing the job. Once her legs were naked she feel back onto the soft green duvet of Chinese silk. No, nothing was ever simple with Jack Robinson. Despite having the appearance of being a very simple man, Phryne's relationship with him was quite the opposite. She was near sure that they could not simply indulge their desires then go their separate ways and she was completely sure she didn't want to – go separate way, that is, not indulge desires. All Phryne could think of lately was indulging her desires with Jack Robinson.

And she was completely forgetting that he had yelled at her, what gave him the right?! Nobody around to see, she picked up a pillow and threw it across the room. Not quite as satisfying as a vase, but it did the trick. What annoyed her more than Jack's yelling was that she had broken down into a puddle of tears. Such a disgustingly female reaction to an angry man. She mentally kicked herself. Never again.

She sighed deeply and begged some higher power to tell her what to do. It wasn't something she did often and so hoped for an immediate reply. Nothing came.

What, on earth, was she to do about Jack Robinson? She asked herself.

She feel asleep pondering this thought and had dreams of being madly ravished by a certain Detective-Inspector in her parlor.

. . .

I hope you like my story and remember, Reviews are the best views! ;)

xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

When Phryne awoke the next morning, she woke with a solution. She would do what she had never done previously: she would simply end any sexual tension between her and Jack. It couldn't be too difficult, she mused, to turn off her charm, could it?

"Morning Miss."

"Morning Dot!" Phryne smiled, proud of herself and her plan, if not still slightly shaken by her last night's argument with Jack.

"Good dreams?" Dot asked, folding the flung clothes.

Phryne's smile turned wicked as she remembered her dream. She wondered if Jack's body really looked as she had imagined it, not that she would ever get to see it if her plan worked. A slight downside, she supposed, but all in the line of duty. "Marvelous dreams Dot, though I won't corrupt you with the details."

Dot recognized the look on Phryne's face and blushed accordingly. Phryne laughed and patted her shoulder. "Never change," she told her companion.

Dot was sure she never would.

"What are your plans for today Miss?"

"Well I've got to find that man," Phryne said as if locating a shooter whom she didn't even know the name of was the simplest, most mundane task that had ever existed.

"And how will you find him?" Dot asked, trying very hard not to show her worry. Sometimes she wished Miss Fisher would take up a less dangerous occupation.

"I'll start with a visit to Miss Brown."

.

"Ah, Phryne dear," Mac smiled, recognizing immediately the woman donned in a colorful coat, and matching hat, that was making her way towards her. Phryne was never a woman that could be missed.

"Mac!" Phryne smiled and gave her old friend a big hug.

"Your visit, I suppose, is purely business?"

"Purely," Phryne said, taking her friends arm and steering them towards the ward that she knew housed Miss Brown.

"Your detective-inspector in there already," Mac informed her.

"_My_ detective-inspector?"

Mac simply gave her a knowing raise of an eyebrow and left her to do her investigating. She had another surgery in less than half an hour and that didn't leave much time for food, let alone following Phryne around as she did what she did best.

Phryne found Jack seated beside Miss Brown's bed and Hugh standing and taking notes, not that there were many notes to me taken. Miss Brown, in seemed, was keeping her mouth securely zipped. What, Phryne wondered, kept a woman silent about the man who would try to kill her? There was the age old reason, there was fear, and there was love. Which was the case here?

"Delilah," Phryne sighed, taking up the chair on the opposite side of the bed to Jake and Miss Brown's soft hand.

"Miss Fisher," the girl managed.

"Phryne, really."

"Phryne," the girl said quietly. "I am so very sorry for putting you in harms way."

"Nonsense," Phryne smiled, patting Delilah's hand.

Phryne gave Jack a look that suggested he leave them alone to talk and he returned it with a look that told her that was not going to happen. Jack watched a furrow form in Phryne's very soft forehead. But she said nothing to him.

"Who was that man who shot you Delilah?"

"I… I don't know…" she managed. Phryne was now surer than ever that Miss Brown knew exactly who her attacker was. She may have left it at if the attacker hadn't also taken a shot at her.

"I don't believe that for a minute," Phryne told the woman matter-of-factly. Delilah seemed to be taken aback by Phryne's frank speak. "I will find him, you know. I don't appreciate being shot at."

"He wasn't thinking straight," Delilah tried to explain.

Phryne tried to hide her disgust.

"Who was he?"

Delilah didn't reply, but dropped her eyes. Phryne doubted she would get any more out of the girl. At least she knew one thing, it was definitely love that had her mouth firmly shut. Love and stupidity.

Jack saw the anger in Phryne and decided it was time to step in. "Thank you, Miss Brown."

"For what?" Phryne asked him once they were out of earshot. "She was completely unhelpful."

"Not all women can be like you, Miss Fisher."

"What, you think she's hiding his identity because she's scared?"

"It is," Jack said carefully, "a definite possibility."

"I disagree," Phryne said simply.

With that she was walking off in the opposite direction. Her next stop was the scene of the crime. She decided if Jack was going to be so stupid then not being attracted was going to be easy.

"You think she's not talking because she's afraid, sir?" Hugh Collins asked, his face full of question. He had been certain the girl hadn't appeared scared.

"Not for one moment Constable."

"But then… why…" Hugh decided not to bother asking. He was sure he would not understand.

.

Phryne found the door to the apartment covered with police tape and found a way around the tape just as easily. It looked very much as it had when she had last been there, only slightly more dusty. She went through the attack.

She had reached the door and heard the gun shot. The door had been locked and she'd… found a way in. Delilah brown had been on the floor, bleeding from a gunshot wound to the abdomen. Phryne kneeled and ran a fingered glove over the near black stain on the rug. The attacker, a man in his thirties, Phryne had guessed, had shot at her when she'd entered the apartment, missing narrowly, and Phryne had returned the fire. He'd escaped out the window before the police had arrived.

Phryne stood and walked to the window that had been shut to ensure no pests, or noisy detectives, could get in through it. Opening it, Phryne saw the dust that told her a policeman had taken prints.

She looked around and hoped for a piece of evidence that would jump out at her, tell her exactly whom her shooter was, and save her a lot of time. But where, she thought with a brief smile, would be the fun in that?

In the hinge of the window Phryne located a small piece of grey fabric. Not exactly a case-breaking piece of evidence, Phryne already knew the man had been wearing grey. But it did confirm her suspicions that the man had been at least mildly wealthy, the fabric was not a cheap one.

An hour later, Phryne emerged from the apartment building with little more knowledge than she had had when she'd entered. The most interest factoid she'd learnt was that Miss Delilah Brown, despite her young age, had an interest in family planning. Not exactly a crime. In fact, Phryne would have been quite proud of the girl for being smart if she weren't protecting the man who had nearly killed her. The only other constructive piece of evidence she had located were some letters. Perhaps she would find the lover hiding within them.

Phryne's thought was cut off by a gunshot. It took her only a brief moment to realize it was aimed at her. Most people would have dropped to the ground. Phryne pulled out her small pistol and shot at source of the gunfire: a man wearing a grey suit.

When he ran off, she ran after him, gun in hand incase he felt the need to turn back on her and shoot. Phryne wished she'd worn her walking shoes but knew there was little point in worrying about it now. She cursed when the man jumped into a car and was off. She shot after it put to no avail. It was gone. But, on the positive side, she had gotten the registration number.

. . .

I hope you're liking my story and remember,  
Reviews are the best views! ;)

xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

"A black Studebaker, Miss?" Constable Collins checked as he wrote down the details.

"Yes Hugh."

"And what was the registration number again?"

Phryne repeated the registration number to Hugh for the third time. The police station was exactly how it always was, just a little too quiet and smelling strongly of bad tea and cheap cigarettes. Phryne pulled out her own cigarette and took a long drag as she continued to go over what had happened with the Constable.

"That's the second gunfight you've gotten yourself into in two days Miss Fisher."

Phryne turned to see Jack standing in the doorway to his office. When she'd arrived the door had been shut. His eyes told her he was less than impressed. It appeared Phryne had already forgotten their little chat, he thought hopelessly. She simply shrugged her shoulders as if to say it wasn't any fault of her's.

"And what were you doing outside a crime scene in the first place?"

"It's not a crime to be _outside_ a crime scene, is it?" she said innocently, her smile mischievous. She scolded herself and her smile disappeared. No charm.

"No, Miss Fisher, I suppose it isn't."

Phryne smiled and had to scold herself again. Perhaps this would be harder than she had originally thought.

"Anyway boys," she smiled in the most friendly and not charming manner she could managed, "I better be off. Give me a call when you find the owner of the vehicle?" She aimed her question, and charm, towards Hugh. But being Hugh, he looked to Jack for an answer.

"Perhaps Miss Fisher," Jack answered.

Phryne shrugged, supposing that was the best she could ask for, and showed herself out. Maybe her plan needed revising. Trying not to flirt was much too difficult. Certainly a little flirting couldn't be all that bad?

.

Phryne breezed into her abode with a plan to lounge with one of Mr Butler's potions, disguised as a cocktail, and Delilah's correspondence. This plan was interrupted by a visitor who, Dot instructed, was Mrs Brown, Delilah's mother. Phryne had met the woman before and could honestly say the idea of having to converse with her did not excite her in the least. She was once again thankful that most of her family lived very far away across a very large sea.

"Mrs Brown," Phryne exclaimed, managing to scrape some happiness up into her tone. "Such a pity to have to see you again under such circumstances." Or at all, Phryne added to herself.

"Phryne," the woman sighed.

She was the typical woman of her class so it really was no wonder that she annoyed Phryne to such an end. And, despite Phryne's age, she was sure to never treat her as a grown-up until she walked down the isle. As Phryne would never do so, she would always be viewed as a child.

Phryne wondered why the lady was sitting in her parlor and not at her daughter's beside. Something, she noted, to look into.

The conversation went as expected, Mrs Brown pleading that Miss Fisher find whoever it was who had tried to kill her daughter. The woman, however, was missing a certain conviction usually found in worried mothers.

Something, Phryne thought, was certainly off.

When the woman left, Phryne sprawled herself across the loveseat. She remembered, briefly, that the last person she'd sat on the couch with had been Jack Robinson. Mr Butler placed in her hand a cocktail, pink this time, and left her to her thoughts. Looking at the ground, Phryne was reminded of her dream, where her and Jack had ended up just in that spot, hands groping, tracing, lips searching…

Phryne took a very deep breath and draining her cocktail in an unladylike manner.

She was just opening the first of the letters when the telephone rang. "What now?" she asked allowed.

"Detective-Inspector Robinson for you Miss," Mr Butler explained from the doorway.

"Of course," she muttered. "Does he have news?"

"He suggests you return to the station. He says he has name of a certain car owner for you."

"He couldn't have shared such information over the telephone?"

"Apparently not Miss."

"Ah well," she relenting, picking herself up off the couch and finding herself not quite so steady on her feet. Perhaps she should not drink magic cocktails at such a speed. "Bring the car around then Mr Butler."

"Yes Miss."

.

Jack was just beginning to wonder whether Miss Fisher was going to come or not when she sauntered through the door. She didn't seem to be in the happiest of moods and Jack wondered what the reason was for the bee in her bonnet, surely it wasn't their conversation that had her in such a disposition.

"You have information for me?" she asked rather too seriously.

"I do," Jack agreed, leaning back on his chair to study Phryne and wonder why she wasn't venturing further into his office than the doorway. He tapped the file on his desk.

When Jack offered nothing further Phryne sighed and left her place at a safe distance from the detective-inspector. She took up her usual spot on the corner of his desk and made a move for the folder.

Jack placed his hand over it before she could snatch it up. One of Phryne's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. He wanted to ask her what had gotten at her – certainly she wasn't as put off as he by the other night – but decided against it. He lifted his hand and she took the file.

"Michael Douglas," Phryne read then pursed her lips in thought. "Michael Douglas," she repeated slower. "Where do I know that name…?"

Jack thought she looked very cute when confused but quickly dismissed the though. There was a time and a place, he thought, and he was still of the belief that such thoughts about Miss Fisher were sure to get him into trouble.

He snapped back to reality to find Phryne staring at him as if for an answer. He shrugged. How would he know where she knew the name from? He'd never heard it before he'd read the file himself.

"Michael Douglas," she said a third time, even slower. Would saying the name slowly really help jog her memory? "Oh, I know!" She exclaimed. Apparently it would. "He just got engaged!"

"Engaged?"

"Yes!" Phryne exclaimed, proud of herself for remembering. In her boredom a few days prior she had read every last line of the newspaper, including the engagement notices. "I read it in the paper. Now, who was it he was engaged to…?"

Jack opened his mouth to put in his two cents worth but was cut off before he could.

"Angela Lawson!" Phryne found the name and was up before Jack could do or say anything.

His voice stopped her just before she got to the door. "And who is Angela Lawson?"

"Delilah Brown's cousin," Phryne exclaimed with a smile of victory. She didn't remember her vow to stop showing any small amount of charm in front of the detective. He found her excitement all too attractive, just as much as her usual calculated charm.

"Why would Delilah's cousin's fiancé want her dead?" Jack asked.

"Oh I can think of many reasons." Phryne's smile was as wicked as the ideas in her head. She was sure there were many possibilities, and she wasn't sure as to which exactly it was, but she had her suspect and a notion that the reason was a naughty one.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"To interview our suspect," she smiled. "Are you coming?"

Jack picked up his coat off the coat stand and placed his hat on his head. He couldn't help but feel like the little lamb following Mary.

. . .

I hope you're liking my story and please do tell me what you think, reviews are truly the best views! :P

xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

"Is Mr. Douglas in?" Jack asked at the door.

The house was a mansion, definitely built by old money, yet Phryne had never heard of him other than his engagement. Perhaps Michael Douglass had bought the mansion after the original owners had fallen upon hard times.

The Butler eyed him up in the same manner Mr Butler would have a guest which he did not know. It didn't help that Jack's appearance practically screamed policeman.

"He's not," the Butler replied. He wasn't quite as good as Mr B, Phryne mused. When _he_ told visitors she wasn't in, he was much more believable.

Phryne took the reins. "The Hon. Miss Phryne Fisher," she smiled, oozing reputability. "I wished to offer my congratulations on his engagement. A little late, I confess, but I was only made aware of it today. The cogs of the gossip-wheel appear to be turning slower than usual."

The butler appeared pleased by her, though not at all by Jack. "I shall tell him you came."

Phryne resisted the urge to huff and instead smiled sweetly, fishing in her purse for her call card. She handed it to the butler. "Tell Mr. Douglas to call me and we can set up an appointment."

"Yes ma'am."

The door was promptly shut on their noises.

"Well that was rude," Phryne said letting out the huff that she had wanted to earlier.

.

Phryne finally settled herself down with her cocktail and the letters. They revealed as her sexually motivated mind had expected. Miss Delilah Brown was having an affair with her cousin's fiancé. However, they did not give her an answer to the question that was on her mind: why had her lover decided to shoot her?

The telephone rang and moment later Mr B was in her room asking if she would be free to meet with a Mr. Douglass the following day at eleven. Such a time didn't seem suspiciously dangerous, so Phryne agreed. Did the man not know who she was? Certainly he would not invite to tea a woman who could identify him as the shooter? Perhaps agreeing wasn't the smartest of moves. Well it was too late now, Phryne supposed.

"Mr Butler?"

He was in the room in seconds. "Yes Miss?"

"Could you call Detective-Inspector Robinson and invite him to that tea?"

"Yes Miss."

Phryne continued reading the letters with the aid of two more cocktails that left her feeling pleasantly woozy. She found no more information that was of aid to her other than making her long for male company, particularly the company of Jack Robinson. She had already come to the conclusion that her current plan was not going to work, she simply couldn't resist playing with him, and she had yet to come upon a better idea. Phryne spent the next hour or so trying to work out what to do to no avail.

"Alas," she commented to herself.

She was about to put herself to bed earlier than she would usually deem appropriate then had a better idea.

"Dot dear!" she called.

"Yes miss Phyrne?"

"Can you get out my Jade dress? The one with that beautiful beading. I'm going dancing."

.

The club was playing jazz music at a loud enough volume that one could not hear the word coming out of the person next to them. Phryne danced with many a beautiful man and received many an outrageous invite fueled by a few too many drinks. She, having drunk a few too many cocktails before she had even left the house, felt herself inclined to agree, but then she remembered Jack and declined.

This, she huffed, certainly would not do. If she couldn't have herself Jack Robinson, she could at least have herself a young dancer. However, it appeared that wasn't true.

Phryne left alone with a kiss on her hand and sore feet. She would have to deal with this Jack Robinson situation soon or who knew what could happen? She firmly believed chastity was unhealthy.

When she arrived home she was asleep before she hit the bed. Her dreams, once again, featured Jack, dancing, this time, at a jazz club with considerable skill, running his calloused hands up her thigh and down her bare back.

. . .

xoxo


	6. Chapter 6

ONE OF A KIND

Thank you all SO much for your reviews and kinds words.

I hope you continue to enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

Dot found Phryne head down on her bed still wearing the dress she'd been wearing the previous night. At least, Dot thought, that meant there wouldn't be any young men who would have to be explained to the Detective-Inspector who was waiting downstairs.

"Miss…" Dot ventured.

Phryne made a light groan that told Dot she was still amongst the living.

"The Detective-Inspector is downstairs," Dot informed her, pulling open the curtains as one rips off a band-aid.

Phryne groaned again, this time louder and with more passion.

"Come on Miss," Dot helped her up and started undressing her. "Mr Butler's got coffee coming."

Phryne was thankful for the caffeine and when she swept down the stairs to meet Jack he wasn't able to tell of the pounding headache that was impairing her. Nor could he tell that each step was causing her immense pain. "Morning Inspector," she smiled.

This, Jack thought, was his Phryne. Whatever had been troubling her the day before appeared to be delt with.

"Coffee, Mr Butler?" He was already carrying in the tray. Phryne resisted kissing him. "You, Mr. Butler, are an angel."

Phryne and Jack sat down in the parlor, safely on opposite sides of the room, and let the caffeine soak in.

"Can I ask why I've been summoned Miss Fisher?"

Summoned, Phryne thought, she liked that term. She smiled devilishly over her cup and Jack felt it in his gut. How was it possible for her to look so composed at every instant of the day? He had only seen her looking disheveled once or twice.

"We have an engagement with Mr. Douglass," she smiled, checking her watch, "at eleven. We've plenty of time to plan."

"And how much planning is required for tea with a suspect?"

"Not much, I imagine," she smiled, genuinely happy to be sharing a morning coffee with Jack, despite her pain. She honestly couldn't imagine a better way to start the day, not even awaking next to a very attractive man, well, perhaps she wouldn't go that far. But it was certainly very pleasant.

Before long they were conversing comfortably, like old friends. Absently, Phryne removed one of her shoes and took about her aching foot.

"Sore feet?" Jack asked. He seemed to be laughing at her without much sympathy.

Phryne gave a mocking grimace that turned quickly into a smile. Jack's heart, although he was sure it was medically unlikely, seemed to skip a beat. "That's what I get for spending the night dancing."

Jack, motivated not by his own brain, stood and took the seat next to her, then, shocking both of them, took up her foot and began to rub it. After a few moments of shock, Phryne regained control over herself and wriggled her foot under his touch.

"Will you keep still?" he asked simply, faux annoyance in his voice. He tried desperately to hide his desire to ran his hand further up her calve, up her thigh…

"Make me," Phryne longed to say, but didn't. Jack stopped momentarily and looked at her in shock, an eye brow raised almost so high that it would have been hidden by his hair. Had she spoken aloud? Dammit, she scolded herself. She needed to stop doing that. Inside thoughts, she instructed, were for the inside.

They were sitting there, frozen by shock, when Mr. Butler entered the room.

"Miss, it's coming on quarter to, should I get the car ready?"

Phryne was breathing much heavier than she would have liking and her heart was beating in such a way that she could barely hear over it. She demanded herself to speak and was somewhat surprised when words managed to exit her mouth. "No Mr Butler, we'll be taking Detective-Inspector Robinson's car."

"Okay Miss."

And with that, he was gone.

Phryne and Jack sat still in their position for a moment longer, neither really comfortable enough to say anything, each equally shocked and equally craving the other.

It was Jack who managed to speak. "We should be off then," he choked out.

Phryne's mouth opened but no words formed. Jack wondered if he'd really been able to make the Hon. Miss Phryne Fisher speechless, a feat, he was sure, which had never been previously achieved by anybody, man or woman. He physically saw her put herself together, the hesitance disappeared and was replaced quickly by confidence. "That we should," she beamed

She let Jack stand first then slipped her shoe on and gave him her hand to help her stand. They walked out the door, Phryne's hand tucked in Jack's elbow, off to have tea with an attempted killer.

. . .

xoxo


	7. Chapter 7

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

"Ah Miss Fisher," the butler smiled as he opened the door, at least until he spotted Jack. "I was of the belief you were to be coming alone."

Jack looked at Phryne with as much embarrassment as his straight face would allow. She shrugged innocently. "I was not aware of that," she smiled, placing her hand around Jack's bicep. She hoped it was clear that he was with her and she would not be entering without him.

It seemed clear enough, as the Butler stood out of the way and let them through the door, escorting them through the luxurious entranceway which supported a rather delicious chandelier and into the front parlor to wait. Phryne did not let Jack's arm go until they were comfortably seated next to each other on the couch, giving them both an excellent view of both the room's entrances, if not out the front window. It also would prove adequate as a shield to jump behind should the man of the house enter welding a gun.

Jack seemed tense so Phryne rubbed his thigh with her hand. Apparently this didn't help the situation as he took in a breath which he did not let out. Phryne removed her hand and the breath was released.

Phryne was about to comment when a man swept into the parlor. His hair was dark with gray coming through at the roots, a little premature for his age as Phryne placed him at about thirty.

"The Hon. Miss Phry–" the man started, saw her, then turned and ran in the opposite.

Phryne took up after him, gun out of her purse and in her hand, very thankful that today she had indeed worn her walking shoes. Her feet still ached in the movement – perhaps next time she knew a chase would be in order she would not go out dancing the night before – but it could have been considerably worse.

Jack, who had not been expecting to have to give chase, was a few feet behind her. Soon they were out of the house and running across a wide expanse of lawn.

"Mr. Douglas!" Phryne demanded. "Stop!"

Her words appeared to have had an effect because next thing she knew, Michael Douglas was on the ground having tripped over an exposed root. What an exposed root was doing in the middle of a lawn, Phryne had no answer for, but she was thankful for it. Although she was proud of her athletic ability, she did not at all like running.

Phryne was on top of him before he could even attempt to get up. The muzzle of her pistol was placed against the back of his head. "Why did you try and kill Delilah?" she asked politely.

"Phryne!" Jack scolded upon seeing the gun. He had half a mind to grab her and pull her off the joker who lay on the grass but such an act would likely end in him getting shot and the man getting away.

Phryne decided to ignore him.

"Why?" she repeated.

"The bitch was blackmailing me," the man spat.

"Oh was she?" Phryne asked. She wasn't so sure. Sweet, hopelessly in-love Delilah did not at all seem the type.

"She said if I didn't give her the cash that she would tell my fiancé, my Angela."

"And why shouldn't Angela know?" Phryne asked as if it were the most straightforward question in the world.

"I loved her!"

"Who," Phryne asked, removing the gun from the back of the man's head and getting comfortable sitting on his back, "Delilah or Angela?"

Jack, knowing he could do little in this situation, had decided to stand back and watch it unfold. He had to admit, though he never would out loud, that Miss Fisher had a good interrogation technique, if only she didn't rely so much on violence. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, he mused.

"Delilah," the man cried.

For some unbeknown reason, Phryne believed him. However, that did not change the fact that he had shot the girl and fired at _her_. _Twice_!

"And that, I suppose, justifies trying to kill me?" Phryne asked.

Jack was quite impressed that she did not raise her voice. If one were blind he might believe her having a nice conversation over tea.

"I'm… I'm sorry… I… I didn't mean… I loved… She… I…"

The rest of what the man said was nonsense. He was of very little use to her now. She got up off of him and he did not move as Jack cuffed him and read to him his rights. He mumbled all the way to the station.

By the time they arrived there Phryne was ready to shoot him just to make him be quiet. The headache that she had woken up with – thanks to too much alcohol in quick succession followed by a lot of loud music and little sleep – had returned in full force. She longed very much for a nap but knew that would not be possible until she had gotten to the end of this case. She was on a roll now and if she pushed through it would likely be tied up in a nice, neat bow by the day's end.

"Will you come for dinner tonight Jack dear, and tell me all about the interview?" Phryne asked, stopping the Detective-Inspector before he entered the interrogation room.

"You won't be joining me?" Jack asked, thoroughly perplexed. He had long done away with protocol and simply expected Phryne to take part in the questioning process.

"I wouldn't want to interfere in the investigative process," Phryne comment innocently.

Jack didn't stop himself before a laugh escaped, though he quickly composed himself as if nothing had happened. Phryne raised her eyebrows, daring him to comment. He decided not to.

"Dinner then?"

Jack thought that dinner with Phryne was most likely not a good idea. Phryne had, failing in her original plan to be totally devoid of charm, commenced telling herself that flirting with Jack really wasn't that bad and any resulting difficulties could be delt with as they arose.

"Dinner," Jack agreed.

Phryne watched him enter the interrogation room, catching a glance at the rather pathetic and sweaty Michael Douglas. She breezed out of the police station, caught a taxi, and made her way to the woman's hospital. She wanted a word with a certain Miss Delilah Brown.

. . .

xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

"Gone?" Phryne exclaimed. "What do you mean she's gone? She was shot! It's not like she could just get up and leave."

The nurse who was baring the brunt of Phryne's frustrating was quivering. Her gaze was fixed firmly on the ground and her words were mumbles.

"Oh speak clearly," Phryne sighed, thoroughly exasperated and not in the mood for mumbling women who were clearly lacking in backbone.

"She... she left this morning," the nurse managed.

"Alone?" The calm voice that had previously impressed Jack was gone.

"Y… yes."

"Phryne, would you stop harassing my nurses?"

Phryne stood to see Mac standing in the doorway, hands securely fastened on hips covered by workman's trousers. The nurse ran off.

"Oh great," Phryne sighed, "now you've scared her off."

"I think you managed that all on your own old girl," Mac observed, offering Phryne her arm and leading the annoyed lady out of the ward and into the sunlight.

The two women took a seat on a bench which had held many a worried mother, expectant father and tired doctor. Phryne lit a gasper and offered one to Mac who politely refused.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Mac finally asked, after she had given Phryne the opportunity to take a few much needed drags.

"My knickers are perfectly straight," Phryne remarked. Although she wasn't entirely sure as to the origin of her bad mood – though her headache likely contributed – the cigarette had the desired effect of taking off the edges.

Mac raised her ginger eyebrows and waited so Phryne to explain.

Phryne managed to hold out for all of two seconds, Mac knew her far too well. "I feel I've been hoodwinked."

"Happens to the best of us," Mac observed, wishing she had said yes to the gasper.

"Not to me," Phryne said with a sigh. She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another.

"So this would have nothing to do with that policeman of yours?"

This time it was Phryne was raised her eyebrows. Her red lips curved skyward despite herself, giving herself completely away.

"He is rather dashing, for a man," Mac commented.

Phryne, not a woman to giggle, laughed briefly and gave her old friend a quick hug. She loved the woman like a sister and couldn't care less that she preferred the company of other women rather than Phryne's preference, men. Less competition, Phryne mused with a smile.

"Anyway," Phryne began. Two cigarettes down she decided it best not to have another, though she wanted to. "What can you tell me about Delilah Brown's condition."

"Nothing you don't already know." Mac's already lined forehead creased. "Shot in the stomach. She was lucky, really, not much damage."

"Little enough damage that she could just stand up and leave."

"Though I wouldn't recommend it, we can't just keep people here against there will."

Phryne would have, but she relented. "No, I suppose you can't."

"I take it she's the hoodwinker."

"Indeed."

Phryne patted her friend's lap and said her farewell. She would go visit Mrs Brown – she shuddered at the prospect – and she had to inform Mr B to prepare dinner for her and the detective. Mac waved Phryne away then went back to work, she had two expectant mothers on watch that would soon become parents, she just hoped their babies arrived before night.

.

Mrs Brown was entirely unhelpful and an hour with her had adverse effects on Phryne's already aching head. Any help to her aliment that had been given by her chat with Mac was reversed and when she entered her house she was ready to collapse.

"The Inspector called Miss," Mr Butler informed her as he took her coat.

"Oh?" she asked. "Dot, will you come help me with these shoes!"

Her companion arrived seconds later. Phryne exhaustedly plumped herself down on the sofa and offered her feet to dot.

"He offers his apologies, it appears he won't be able to make it for dinner tonight."

"Oh," she repeated, obviously downcast.

"He did, however, say that he would try to drop in for supper."

"Oh," Phryne smiled. That would do. "Draw me a bath Dot, and…"

"A cocktail, Miss?" Mr Butler asked, reading her mind.

"Mr B, one day you must teach me how you read minds so efficiently."

"Perhaps Miss," he smiled.

Phryne wasted the rest of the afternoon in the bath, comforted by the soft lavender scent which had resulted from the salts Dot had liberally thrown into the warm waters, sipping a dark cocktail that had her ready to sleep. When she finally climbed out of the bath she stumbled naked and wet to her bed and fell asleep long before her head hit the pillow.

. . .

Your reviews and kind words mean so very much, thankyou!

xoxo


	9. Chapter 9

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

"Dinner's ready Miss."

Phryne woke at the sound Dot's melodious voice and let out a soft moan. She stretched out her limbs, reminding Dot of a cat, thankful not to be restricted by clothing. Dot, used to seeing Phryne's naked body, was still somewhat shocked at how lacking in modesty her employer could be. She seemed completely comfortable despite her stark nudity. Dot didn't think she would ever be like that, even when she was married.

"I'll bring it up if you like."

"That'd be great Dot," Phryne smiled, sitting up to examine her naked body in the mirror that stood opposite to her bed. She felt entirely better. Her headache was gone and her muscles were lax.

She let her companion dress her then sat in her boudoir to receive dinner. The meal was, as usual, excellent. Jack had missed out, she mused. She ate every last bit, moping up even the gravy left on the plate with bread.

When Mr Butler came to take her plate away she thanked him profusely.

"Which dress will you wear tonight Miss," Dot asked.

Phryne briefly considered wearing the navy dress with no back, she would have loved to see Jack's face when he saw her lounging in wait for him in that. However, she did not think it would be fair. "I think trousers would be better for tonight," she mused allowed.

"The black ones with the silk blouse?" Dot suggested.

"And the robe which Lin gave me."

Lin had given Phryne many robes but Dot knew exactly the one she meant as it went perfectly with the emerald green of the silk blouse and brought out the green in Phryne's eyes. It was beautifully embroidered in an oriental way that Dot usually wasn't fond of, but it was entirely too beautiful that not even Dot could help but adore it. On her, of course, it would have looked silly, but it was astounding on Phryne's thin frame and matched her colouring perfectly.

Dressed, Phryne again inspected herself in the mirror of her bedroom. Her eyes were piercing, made so by the color of her ensemble and skillful application of makeup. She looked perfectly mysterious and, she thought as she painted her lips a scarlet red, just a little dangerous.

Considering her employer, Dot reckoned it were best she had worn trousers, for the poor Detective-Inspector would not have had a chance had she been dressed even slightly less modestly.

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in Mr B," Phryne smiled.

"What room will you be entertaining the Detective-Inspector in Miss?" he asked.

Phryne considered the Boudoir but again, knew that that would not be a good idea. No matter how much she wished to entertain Jack in her private rooms, it was probably pushing at the limits. "The back parlor," she smiled.

Mr Butler left to go prepare the room. It was a room not often used by the house as it was somewhat out of the way, but it was, as every room was, perfectly ready to entertain. It's colouring was similar to Miss Fisher's boudoir, dark sea blues, emerald green and gold. Unsure as to how Miss Fisher wanted the evening to go, he lit the fire and left matches for the candles to be lit with, should such atmosphere be required. He placed a tray, carrying two crystal glasses and a matching decanter filled with fine whiskey, down on the table and judged the room ready. One a final thought, he ran back to the kitchen then returned with a few of Miss Fisher's favorite chocolates. The room, he mused, begged for indulgence.

When the knock on the front door came, Mr Butler gave the room a final once over before answering.

Upstairs, Phryne gave herself another once over in the mirror. She looked marvelous, she smiled to herself. For some reason butterflies had formed in her stomach and she had to take a slow breath to quiet them.

"Here we go," she smiled to Dot, sweeping out of the room and down the stairs.

"Here we go to where?" Dot murmured to nobody in particular. Sometimes Miss Fisher truly baffled her.

. . .

I am devastatingly horrified to have learnt that there have been typos in my  
work (i am notoriously bad for this) and I shall work very VERY hard to try and ensure there aren't any.

xoxo


	10. Chapter 10

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

The sight of Phryne drifting down the stairs had Jack swallowing dryly. He quickly recovered, but his initial reaction was not missed by either Phryne or Mr Butler.

"Jack!" Phryne exclaimed, skipping her way down the last few steps.

"Phryne," he nodded a greeting and Phryne felt happily bubbly in the fact that he had called her by her first name. Such a simple thing, she thought, and yet it left her so utterly joyful.

Mr Butler led them through to the back parlor and began pouring drinks. Phryne waved him away and he left on a bow.

"So Jack," she smiled, taking over the pouring. "What news have you to tell me?"

Jack relayed to her the main bullet points of the interrogation and she sat and listened. Jack could practically see the fountain pen in her head writing mental notes.

"So he is sticking to the story that he was in love with her until she turned on him and started blackmailing him?"

"It would seem that way," Jack agreed, leaning back into the corner of the sofa taking a sip of his drink. Even if Miss Fisher were a hag, her whiskey could keep him returning to give her information. However, that would _never_ be the case. It rolled smoothly down his throat and left behind a warm trail.

"And you believe his story?"

"I feel so inclined."

"So do I," Phryne huffed. Obviously she was not happy about this.

"And what information do you have to tell me?" Jack asked.

Phryne gave an innocent look that collapsed in a laugh at Jack's expression. He really was beginning to know her all too well. "She escaped from the hospital this morning and has not been seen since, Delilah Brown, that is. Her mother, a truly disgusting woman, offered no help."

"She escaped?"

"Well, she discharged herself. Against Mac's expert medical advise."

They fell into silence that was not altogether awkward, but certainly wasn't comfortable either.

"I've never seen this room before," Jack mused, making conversation. "I didn't even know it existed."

"Hmmm," Phryne purred – did she know how such a sound affected him? She must – and considered the room. "I don't use it nearly enough. It's one of my favorites."

This did not surprise Jack and all. It suited her. The dark colors were seductive and matched her coloring as perfectly as the robe she had donned.

Phryne's eyes, finished wandering the room, settled on Jack's and he felt his heart stop before accelerating to a speed greater, even, than the speed at which Phryne dashed around town in her Hispano-Suiza. He had not previously thought such a speed was possible. When he opened his mouth to speak he was surprised by the clarity and frankness that he managed. "What's happening here Phryne?"

She started to feign innocence by was stopped by Jack's raised eyebrows. "Truth be told Jack, I don't know myself. Though I can say I've been trying to keep to our promise, only one gunfight since we spoke."

"Yes, _only_ one."

It appeared he had the Hon. Miss Phryne Fisher running scared, trying to return the conversation to a lighthearted manner with which she were comfortable. Jack too, he supposed, would have been more comfortable with jovial atmosphere, but he knew he had to get said what needed to be said.

"I'm not easily changed," Phryne smiled.

"No." Something in his tone had Phryne's smile disappearing. "You're not." Phryne waited, frozen, for Jack to continue. She was unbelievably and surprisingly nervous. "I won't be one of her many lovers Phryne. I'm not going to be one of a great crowd."

The comments, although callous, did not offend her. Phryne was perfectly at peace with the fact that she had had many men and although she didn't quite like how Jack had phrased it, she understood. It was not something she was ashamed of.

"You, Jack, will never just be one of the crowd," she said after a while.

They were sitting, once again, on opposite sides of the room, at a safe enough distance a way from each other. In the silence, the crackle of the fire could be heard. Both wanted desperately to go to the other.

"Well, I should be going," Jack said, finishing his drink and standing. Phryne stood with him.

He was nearly out of the room when she spoke.

"Jack."

He waited, her mouth was open to say something more but it appeared that not even she knew the words she wished to speak. Something about love, she mused. Did she love Jack Robinson? Certainly, she had loved many men in her time, but nothing felt quite like this. This felt entirely too similar to how she had felt, all those many years ago, with Rene Dubois, and the thought unsettled her.

Jack turned and headed out of the room when he decided there was nothing more Phryne was going to say.

She stood still for only a moment before exclaiming, "Dammit Jack."

He returned to the room to see her running towards him and before he knew what had hit him her arms were wrapped around his neck and her mouth assaulting his. With speed, passion and desperation he pulled her close to him, as close as was humanly possible whilst they were both still dressed. He longed to rip the clothing off her back and take her with wild passion on the floor. He had to struggle not to.

Meanwhile Phryne was facing the same struggle.

She pulled him until he was pressing her against a dark blue wall, hands grasping at her thigh as she hooked a leg around his. Phryne wished she had worn the dress as she longed to have his hands on her bare skin. His touch left a trail of burns.

Jack broke contact with her lips only to begin an assault on her neck. At that point Phryne lost all control and began fighting to get his suit jacket off of him.

It took Jack a great deal of effort to pull back.

When they stopped they were both lost for breath, panting, and looking deeply into the other's eyes. Phryne took it for a miracle that she did not explode.

"Stay with me," Phryne begged. She did not like how unsure her voice was, how utterly desperate she sounded. She hated to think that in such a question she was putting so much of her heart on the line. How had she not realized earlier how deep her attachment to Jack had become?

"Not tonight," Jack managed despite every part of his body telling him he were a fool. "Not tonight," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

"Okay," Phryne said with a shaky voice.

The two untangled themselves and Phryne saw Jack out. Mr Butler gave her a sympathetic smile as she shut the door behind him – his powers of deduction, Phryne mused, were as sharp as ever. Phryne returned herself to the back parlor, liberally poured herself another drink, and sat in front of the fire, trying to work out how on earth she was to find Delilah Brown and trying not to think about how wholly unsteady Jack had left her feeling.

. . .

xoxo


	11. Chapter 11

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

Angela Lawson met Phryne with a smile and a handshake, knowing her place in the presence of a lady. It was clear, however, that the woman had no idea why Phryne was visiting her.

"I realize congratulations are in order," Phryne smiled as she took a seat across from Miss Lawson in her conservatory. The room was incredibly humid and Phryne could feel her hair beginning to stick up. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but I'm here to ask about your cousin, Delilah Brown. She'd gone missing."

"Oh has she?" Angela asked with exclamation, showing just as much shock and horror as was expected of a well-to-do lady when hearing a relation had disappeared.

"Yes," Phryne said sympathetically though she was aware no sympathy was required. She had already obtained that Angela was not particularly worried that her cousin was nowhere to be found. "She was in the hospital being treated for a shot wound and discharged herself yesterday, against medical advise, and nobody as seen her since."

"Oh how very awful! And very much like Delilah."

"Oh?" Phryne prompted.

"Well, I don't like to talk ill about family…"

_To hell you don't_, Phryne thought with disgust. Her face, however, reflected that she was very interested to hear the gossip. "Being that she's missing, you'd only be helping the investigation."

"I suppose that's true!" Angela smiled, utterly delighted to have an excuse to gossip. Phryne was beginning to understand why Michael Douglas had placed his affections elsewhere.

Phryne listened whilst Angela informed her that Delilah had always been a wild child, a grave disappointment to her mother. Phryne reflected that it wouldn't be difficult to disappoint Mrs Brown. How awful that Delilah hadn't just married who she had been told to! Angela went on and Phryne began to drift. It was nothing she hadn't heard before and not particularly interesting. In comparison with Phryne, Delilah was an angel. Aunt Prudence would have seen such a niece as a vast improvement. Besides, Phryne had more interesting things fighting for her attention, such as the memory of Jack's surprisingly soft lips…

"Isn't it disastrous?" Angela asked.

Phryne snapped back to the present and showed a suitable amount of shocked, somewhat excited, agreement. "Yes!"

Angela went on and Phryne went back to daydreaming. By the time she left she had underdressed and had her wicked way with Jack Robinson many times in many different places, including his office. She was nowhere closer to finding her missing woman.

.

"Any luck finding Miss Brown?" Phryne asked Hugh at a voice loud enough that Jack would hear from his place behind the desk. If she were more like the usual female she would've blushed at the memory of what was done upon that desk in her dreams. She allowed herself only a wicked smile.

"I could ask you the same Miss Fisher," Jack replied, not moving from his place.

Phryne took this as an invitation and swept into the room. "Should I shut the door?" she asked flirtatiously.

Jack attempted a straight-faced scold, failing slightly. "The door is fine where it is, I think, Miss Fisher."

"I suppose," she huffed. Phryne smiled and decided to let him off the hook. She wouldn't want the Detective-Inspector being distracted from his work, she thought mischievously.

Jack wondered if Phryne had ever managed to stay serious in any matter. She seemed determined to treat this as anything but serious. Jack wasn't quite sure why it frustrated him so much, this was how their relationship usually was: light and flirty. He supposed he wanted something more than that. When had that happened? He tried to push the thoughts away and put on a smile.

"So," Phryne smiled, propping herself up on the desk, "what have you learnt?"

"Nothing of consequence. Yourself?"

"Nothing of consequence," Phryne sighed, repeating his phrasing. "I've sent Cec and Bert out to ask around. A woman can't just disappear into thin air."

"That she can't," Jack agreed. "We'll find her Phryne," he told her, patting her hand. Phryne found the act surprisingly comforting, not that she had realized she'd wanted comfort.

"And then she can explain all of this."

Phryne was just about out the front door when a call came in that had Hugh calling for his superior. "A young woman's been found matching Delilah Brown's description!"

Moments later the three of them were in the Hispano-Suiza, racing towards the address that Hugh had been given. Jack held onto his hat and tried not to show his discomfort. Hugh showed his discomfort obviously, his eyes managing only just to remain inside their sockets. A landlady had given a room to a young female who'd come in the day prior, then found her this morning in a blood of her own blood, she hadn't touched the body but she believed the blood's origin had been the girl's stomach.

Phryne slammed on the breaks in from of the house then ran up the steps two at a time. Jack was a set behind her, Hugh three steps behind him.

The body, Phryne discovered, was definitely that of Miss Delilah Brown. Phryne's put her money on the cause of death as being related to the gunshot to her abdomen that she received only a few days before. The stupid girl should've never left the hospital. Phryne wondered, now Delilah was dead, whether she would ever know why the girl had blackmailed Michael Douglas, why she had lied to her and why she had dismissed herself from the hospital when she was clearly still in need of medical attention.

Phryne and Jack went about searching the rather bare room for any clues whilst Hugh asked questions of the other boarders. Apparently she'd arrived the day before, shut the door, and not emerged. Clearly, Phryne thought sarcastically, a social butterfly.

Under a floorboard in the corner Phryne located a diary which she subtly stowed in her purse, thankful she'd taken her bigger one. The death wasn't murder so it wasn't likely the police were going to need it.

When Jack looked up from his search he noticed Phryne had gone. He was instantly suspicious. "Collins!"

"Yes Sir?" Hugh materialized at the door.

"Have you seen Miss Fisher?"

"Just left a few moments ago Sir."

Jack cursed, leaving Hugh on lookout over the room. He near ran down the stairs and out the door, stopping short when he spotted Phryne sitting on the fence, smocking a gasper, and reading a book. Closer inspection revealed her reading to be a diary. He guessed it belonged to the deceased.

"Train reading?" Jack asked, jumping up next to her.

"Hmmm…" Phryne purred, engrossed in her reading. It appeared that Delilah Brown was even worse a girl than her smug cousin had believed. Phryne may have been promiscuous, but at least she had never gotten herself caught up in gambling debts.

"And where did you find that?"

"Oh, under a floorboard," she smiled mischievously. "You can have it when I'm done."

"How very kind of you Miss Fisher."

They sat there momentarily and Phryne found that the words she read were no longer going in. She looked up to Jack to find him watching her.

"Tonight?" she asked. Her heart was suddenly hammering. She did not at all like how nervous she was by the whole situation, but pushed forward.

"Tonight?" Jack repeated, feigning innocence. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready to spend the night with Phryne. Although he was sure she did so all the time, he had never been with a woman without a long length of courtship prior.

Phryne gave him a light shove. They both knew exactly what she'd been talking about, though she was thankful that he had reacted cheekily, it was refreshing and calming. "Dinner then," she suggested.

When he said nothing Phryne grabbed his hand and Jack realized just how anxious she was feeling. This was not the Phryne he knew. It made him feel better that she was just as unsettled as he.

"Dinner," he agreed.

Jack jumped down and offered Phryne a hand. Once she was down her hand lingered in Jack's until Hugh came out.

"I'll see you tonight Jack," Phryne exclaimed as she climbed into the Hispano-Suiza and sped off into the distance.

. . .

One more chapter to go! It is written and just being subjected to my scrutiny. It should be up later today.

I hope you have enjoyed my story so far and will enjoy the final chapter.

xoxo


	12. Chapter 12

ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

"Hello Cec," Phryne smiled as she entered the kitchen, "Bert." The room smelt deliciously of afternoon tea, cooked in honor of her guests, and housed Bert, Cec, Mr B and Dot.

"Miss Fisher," Bert greeted. Cec, being a man of few words, simply nodded.

"No need to keep asking about our girl," Phryne sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table and helping herself to what was left of afternoon tea. Mr Butler poured her a glass of orange juice. "Her body was found this morning."

Bert and Cec made the appropriate curses. Dot grabbed at her rosary and muttered something in Latin. Phryne, already acclimatized to the situation, simply spread cream and jam onto a scone.

She didn't feel quite right with how everything had finished. She had her shooter and the blackmailer was dead, so it was done. But she didn't feel like it was done. Ah well, she thought, taking a large bite of her scone.

"Detective-Inspector Robinson will be joining us for dinner," Phryne informed Mr Butler and the rest of the table.

Mr B smiled mischievously. She was certain she was having a corrupting influence on the man. Nobody else made comment and Phryne believed it for the best. She finished her scone and licked her lips.

"I picked up a good read this morning," Phryne informed them all as she dismissed herself from the table, "I might just curl up in the parlor and read it."

The four remaining watched her leave and waited a few moments for her to be out of earshot.

"You reckon she's sweet on that policeman?" Bert asked. He'd never been particularly fond of policemen, but as far as they went, Jack Robinson weren't all that bad.

Cec made a grunt of agreement.

Dot, not liking gossip in the best of times, certainly did not enjoy it when her employer was the suspect. She slapped Cec's hand, which sat on the table beside her, and informed the two ex-dockworkers that they best not speak in such a manner about Miss Phryne and that if she _were_ sweet on the Detective-Inspector it was entirely her own business and none of there's. The two men promptly zipped their mouths and watched as Dot dismissed herself.

"Woman," Bert commented.

"Too right," Cec agreed.

Mr Butler saw them out then set about making dinner. He'd seen a lovely looking rabbit in the butcher's window when he'd been out that morning and thought it would be perfect for dinner, whatever Miss Phryne's motives were.

.

When Jack arrived for dinner at five he was met at the door by Mr Butler who smiled at him a knowing smile. If Jack had been the type to blush, he would have. His coat and hat were taken from him, promptly hung up, then he was escorted into the dinning room.

Phryne stood as he entered and took his breath away. She was clothed in the dress she had decided against wearing the night before and looked absolutely stunning. The dinning room in which he had been entertained before looked entirely different lit solely by candlelight. There was no doubt as to Miss Fisher's motives now.

Mr Butler poured them each a glass of rich red wine then left to put the finishing touches on a dinner he was most proud of.

"You're not going to run away on me, are you Jack?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Jack admitted as he took a sip of the wine, it was good.

"Please don't," Phryne told him.

Jack nodded an agreement and searched for a topic that would take them back into the territory he was used to. "Did you learn anything from the diary?"

"Jack," Phyrne smiled, "you sure know how to romance a girl." She simply laughed when he looked pained. "Miss Delilah Brown, it would appear, was neck deep in gambling debts and was blackmailing Mr Douglas in order to dig herself out of them. Quite careless of her, writing all this down in a diary," Phryne mused, "I never understood why so many people feel the need to write down all their problems on paper."

"Such a woman as you wouldn't Miss Fisher," Jack commented.

He was thankful for the food, both for bringing an end to the conversation and for being the first descent meal he'd had in a long time. He'd found with work, and without a woman at home to prepare him meals, he didn't ever seem to have time to eat food, let alone to make something as delicious as Mr Butler made. The rabbit was spectacular and he said so.

"I agree," Phryne smiled. "Mr Butler will be very happy to hear it."

When dinner was cleared away there was no dinner left, much to Mr Butler's pleasure. There was no greater compliment, he was sure, that an empty plate.

Dessert – homemade ice cream with fresh strawberries – was served and the two were, again, left alone. Testing the waters, Phryne picked up a strawberry by the steam and sucked on it seductively. She saw Jack's pupils dilate.

"Phryne," he murmured.

"Mmm…?"

"Stop," he told her. His hand had formed a fist of his trousers. She didn't. "Phryne…"

When she was certain he was on his absolute last string, just about to reach across the table and grab her, she bit the strawberry and disposed of the steam. Jack let out a breath. Everything about Phryne Fisher, he thought, was seductive, and she had him wrapped firmly around his finger. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to untangle himself from her.

When they finished dessert Phryne stood and offered him her hand. "Shall we take drinks in the parlor, or in my boudoir?"

It was all in Jack's hands. That didn't make him feel any more sure about the situation. He wanted more but he wanted her so much that he was happy to settle for less. It really wasn't settling, he told himself, she was amazing. He pressed his lips together momentarily, as he considered it, then shrugged in a seemingly careless manner, "your boudoir should do fine."

Phryne smiled mischievously before informing Mr Butler that her and Detective-Inspector Jack Robinson would be concluding their evening with drinks in her boudoir and that he could go to bed.

The fire in the boudoir was already lit – Mr Butler, you sly dog, Phryne thought – and the room was pleasantly warm. No other light was required. Jack had never seen such a purely seductive room and tried not to think of the many that had likely seen it before.

Phryne read his mind. "You aren't like anyone else Jack," she informed him, slightly hurt.

Usually Phryne would have lain down coquettishly across the sheepskin rug just in front of the fire, where the light from the flames would flicker across her skin and make her glow. But this was not at all a _usual_ circumstance. Phryne hated to admit that she didn't really know what to do and was altogether nervous. She told herself to get it together, this was her area of expertise after all.

"Phryne?" Jack asked.

She looked over her shoulder to look at him and Jack thought he saw anxiety in her expression, but then, he could very well have just been projecting his own feelings upon her. She was absolutely ravishing. The dark dress she wore had practically no back and Jack was entirely distracted by the idea of running a hand across the soft, bare skin.

"Yes Jack?"

He walked to her slowly, taking all the will power he possessed not to run, and turned her so that he faced her. Her appearance from the front was just as intoxicatingly alluring as the view from behind. When his lips touched hers it was with such tenderness that she almost jumped back, and would likely have done so if the single touch hadn't left her without any of her motor-capabilities. She was frozen.

One of Jack's hands cupped her face, burying his fingers deep in her jet-black hair, the other settled on her hip. For the first time in a very long time, Phryne was not at all sure where to put hers and stood there awkwardly as Jack took charge. This would not do, she heard her subconscious trying to tell her, however she was far too preoccupied to possibly listen.

Jack broke the kiss to look down at Phryne with pure surprise. Her response was not at all what he had expected. Not that he had known what he had expected.

The short intermission allowed Phryne to get some of her wits about her. She ran her hands up the front of Jack's shirt and sighed as she looked into his beautiful eyes. He was beautiful, she thought, and her's, if only for the night. "Oh Jack," she purred, and their lips were reunited.

Phryne made quick work of disrobing Jack of his coat, waistcoat and shirt, pulling and tugging at the fabric that clothed him, desperate to get her hands on the bare skin beneath. Jack had much more difficultly with Phryne's tight dress. Finally she laughed, "how about I do that."

Stepping back from him, Phryne slid the zip down the side of her body then slipped out of the fabric. Jack's eyes went wide. The dress, which had fit Phryne like a glove, now lay at her feet, revealing her slim, white body clad only in black lacy knickers, stockings and matching garter. He had seen the sight once prior, when she stood on the stage at the Imperial gentlemen's club, but that didn't stop it from leaving him wonderstruck. He didn't think he would ever not be left lost for words by such a magnificent view.

"Won't be needing this," Phryne commented, yanking out the stiletto knife that her garters held.

"I should hope not," Jack agreed. He took it out of her hand and laid it down on the fireplace's mantel. Slowly, he brushed his hand down Phryne's naked chest. Phryne tilted her head and watched him, letting herself enjoy the pleasure of his touch and preparing herself for what would come next. When Jack grabbed her, she was ready.

The rest of their clothing was quickly discarded and the two were quickly tangled together on the sheepskin rug in front of the flickering flames. Jack kissed and licked and savored the taste of Phryne's porcelain skin, a honey flavor that he was sure he would remember for an eternity. Phryne let out a short gasp as his teeth bit down on her skin and arched her back in pleasure.

Her gasp turned into a scream of delight when he entered her. The two rode a wave of passion, with hopeless desperation, until they were both totally overcome.

Phryne feel asleep in front of the fire with her head resting on Jack's chest.

.

Jack awoke in a light room covered in gold satin sheets and wrapped around an elegantly svelte goddess that he recognized immediately as Phryne Fisher. Light shone in through the windows and covered them both in golden rays. Jack determined that this was the first time he had slept past dawn in an age. He didn't even consider the fact that somebody would have had to have entered the room to open the curtains to let said light in.

He was thankful that it was a Sunday and he didn't have to move. Softly, his traced a finger down Phryne's ivory back. In the mirror he watched them, though the only movement was his hand up and down Phryne's contours. He thought they made a rather excellent picture, a scene that he would expect to see in one of the many paintings that lined the walls of the St. Kilda address.

Here was the woman he loved, he sighed. He wished so much that she loved him back, wished that this would not just be a one-night affair.

When Phryne stirred he hushed her, but to no avail. She stretched up like a cat then wrapped herself even tighter around him. He thought of a snake but decided such a comparison would likely not be viewed as complimentary.

Phryne's green eyes popped open to contemplate Jack's face. She absently traced his face with her forefinger.

"What are you thinking?" She asked him, her tone revealing none of the unexpected insecurity she was feeling.

"You're beautiful," he told her.

Phryne was taken a back and showed it dramatically, eyes widening and hand pressed against her chest in the manner common of ladies experiencing shock. "Detective-Inspector Robinson! I think you just paid me a compliment!"

"I can do so on occasion."

"It would seem," Phryne observed, eyes round saucers of green, still mocking shock. Then, with a smile that was of pure joy, not her usual devilish grin, she maneuvered herself on top of him and ran a finger down the dip in his chin. "Jack Robinson," she smiled, "You are one of a kind."

THE END

. . .

I hope you liked my story!

I'm sure there will be more to come as I have found myself utterly addicted to  
writing all about Phryne and Jack, whether these will be in one-offs or longer stories, only time will tell.

Thank you for reading!

xoxo


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